


Second Time Around Tastes Even Sweeter

by whatislife



Series: Hockey but make it sexy (unattached PWP's) [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Gangbang, M/M, Mentions of Sex Toys, Subspace, crawling, heads up patrick kane is asleep for the whole story, its less of a gangbang and more of half a gangbang, sub!Patrick Sharp, who knows - Freeform, will i ever write the rest?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 00:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatislife/pseuds/whatislife
Summary: They hadn’t done this since Dallas had happened, but Patrick had been back for a few months now and he wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t been wanting this.He had missed feeling taken care of, and Jonny always made him feel good.





	Second Time Around Tastes Even Sweeter

It started after a win. All the old crew had trudged over to Jonny’s to get drunk on two beers each and go to bed at a decent time, leaving the young guys to actually partying. Patrick had gotten up to pee, and when he got back Kaner had stolen his seat, and had his legs kicked out over the rest of the couch, looking about 2 seconds away from passing out. Patrick had barely started to grumble when Jonny reached out without speaking and pulled him into his lap, a position that was, admittedly, better than sitting on the ground, no matter how many decorative rugs Jonny had around this place. 

Patrick thought that would have been it, but then Jonny started rubbing against his hip and shifting him around his lap, and Patrick knew it was on. They hadn’t done this since Dallas had happened, but Patrick had been back for a few months now and he wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t been wanting this. He had missed feeling taken care of, and Jonny always made him feel good.  
Jonny, who while pulling a blanket over their laps, was having what sounded like a very boring conversation with Brent about dog food. Supposedly, Juliet had expensive taste. Patrick wasn’t even a little bit surprised, Jonny treated the dog better than he treated most humans. 

He was just about to bring that up to, maybe start mocking him a little bit about the time he insisted on Facetiming the dog when they were on the road, but before he could, Jonny’s hand slipped all the way down the back of his shorts to start rubbing at his hole. 

Patrick let out what he would considered a very manly squeaking noise and Brent cut off whatever he was saying about organic kibble mid sentence to look at him. 

“What,” he asks in a flat voice, sounding suspicious. And yeah, in the past Patrick had taken advantage of Jonny’s natural exhibitionism to goad him into sex in supply closets and airplane bathrooms, but never right in front of the team. Brent’s suspicious was entirely unwarranted, and frankly, Patrick was insulted. 

Maybe not entirely unwarranted though, because even as Patrick was trying to convey his hurt feelings through his glare at Brent, he could see Jonny smirking at him from the corner of his eye and he was still groping his ass. 

“I’m fine, just enjoying another riveting conversation about gourmet dog food,” Patrick says, trying to subtly elbow Jonny at the same time. 

Jonny in no way takes the hint, and his hand remains where it is, but Brent seems to take his statement at face value, because he starts ranting about the difference between gourmet and natural, and the importance of maintaining a healthy digestive tract in dogs. 

Duncs, Patrick was pretty sure, has pretty much stopped paying attention to any of them a few hours ago and was watching the fishing show that was muted on the TV. Crow has also started tuning them out, and was texting. And Kaner was almost definitely asleep on the couch, if the snores were any indication. Maybe it was the lack of attention on them that made Jonny feel like he could slowly push the tip of his finger into Patrick. 

Or, maybe he was just a dick. Either way, by the time Jonny had started telling Brent about Juliet's walk schedule, he had his finger in all the way to the first knuckle. Patrick didn’t like to finger himself because having anything in him at all always put him in a weird headspace and honestly it just wasn’t worth feeling dopy all day just to fuck himself. It meant that it had been more than a few months since he had gotten this feeling, and he hadn’t realized until right now how much he had missed it. 

Jonny is just so good even with only one finger, and half his attention on a different conversation. Patrick is starting to wonder if he could kick everyone out of Jonny’s apartment himself, when Jonny pushes his finger in all the way in one stinging, dry slide and almost immediately hits his prostate. Patrick straight up yelps this time, and now Brent and Crow are looking at him with squinty eyed suspicion. Duncs, bless his weird little heart, still seems to be invested in watching silent fishing. 

“Are they being weird?” Crow asks Brent, sounding resigned like he already knows that they are being weird.

“They are definitely being weird,” Brent answers, without hesitation, which again, hurtful. You fuck while someone is sleeping in the next bed over one time, and suddenly every time you make a weird noise it’s related to sex. 

This time, it is related to sex but that is besides the point. Patrick would love to let Brent know what the point was, but Jonny hadn’t moved his finger and was instead rubbing his prostate gently. Patrick’s whole body was tingling, could feel it all the way down to his toes, and he was sure that if he took the blanket off of his lap you would be able to see a wet spot at the front of his pants. 

“He was moving around too much,” Jonny says. “I pinched him.” 

It probably wouldn’t have been a believable lie coming from anyone else, but Jonny delivered it in such a deadpanned voice that even with Patrick making who knows what kinds of faces in his lap, the guys believed him. 

Crow seemed to have gotten bored of texting, because he started a conversation about Brent’s kids hockey league instead. When Brent started telling Crow about the goaltending rules in a five year olds league, Jonny took the opportunity to try and kill Patrick. 

“Your tighter than I remember,” Jonny whispers in his ear. “If we had done this in 2015, I could have gotten three fingers in by now without any lube, you would have been that open for me. Did no one take care of you in Dallas?” 

Patrick barely suppressed another shudder, as he remembers his last few seasons on the Hawks. Jonny had fucked him all the time, almost every night, and on off days he would sometimes spend all day filling Patrick up, pushing a plug into him, never letting him be empty. Patrick remembers those days in a hazy sort of way that he associates with Jonny and the few times in college when he had smoked up. 

Jonny seems to take the way Patrick can barely control himself from shoving further back onto his finger, as a good enough answer. 

“I guess I’ll have to use some lube,” Jonny sighs, like he is doing Patrick a favor. “Get you trained back up.” Jonny reaches into the cushion and pulls out a little bottle of lube, all casual, like it was normal to have lube stashed all over an apartment. 

Patrick spars a glance over to the couch that the guys were on, but they seemed to have moved onto a conversation about...bake sales maybe? Patrick wasn’t sure actually, but they weren’t paying attention to Jonny and him, and that’s what’s important. When Patrick turned back to Jonny, he was finishing slicking up another finger and had started rubbing circles around Patricks hole, getting him wet. 

“You know how slutty it is,” Jonny says in a low voice, pushing his second finger every so slowly into him, “letting your captain fuck you in front of your teammates?” 

And that was it, Patrick could feel himself slip all the way down to the place where the only thing that mattered was Jonny, where everything seemed to move slower and he was always aching for something inside of him. 

If the laugh Jonny let out against his neck was any indication, he knew that Patrick was gone as well. Patrick had always thought that Jonny liked him better like this, as something he could control so easily. When it was very late at night, and Patrick was tired, he had considered the fact that when he retired, Jonny might try to turn him into this permanently. The thing was, Patrick was pretty sure he would succeed. 

Like this, Patrick can’t find it in himself to feel anything but want, not even embarrassment when it is probably warranted, so when Jonny starts whispering in his ear again, he doesn’t do anything and can’t even find it in himself to concentrate on anything but the feeling of Jonny working a third finger in. 

“Oh baby, you look so pretty like this,” Jonny murmurs against his neck. “Do you think the guys know what a slut you are? That you can’t even control yourself enough to wait until they leave?”  
Jonny twists his fingers, and Patrick hears a moan from what feels like far away. It takes him a second to realize he made that noise. 

Jonny laughs. “Oh, they definitely heard that,” he said. “Here, look at them watching you.” 

Patrick hadn’t even realized he had tucked his head into Jonny’s neck, but he must have at some point, because Jonny had to grab his hair to pull his head up to face the boys. Sure enough, all three of them, even Duncs were watching them, and this time, they didn’t seem confused. In fact, they looked more resigned than anything, like they had known it was just a matter of time. 

“Say hi to your friends Patrick,” Jonny said. It feels so easy to just listen to Jonny, to do what he says.

“Hi,” he says obediently, the first time he has used his voice since Jonny had slipped that first finger in him. He sounds fucked out already, and he hasn’t even gotten a dick in him yet. 

“Hi Patrick,” Brent says, sounding like he’s about five seconds away from laughing at him. “You guys know that having sex is normally supposed to be a private thing right?” 

Crow snorts in derision and waves his beer bottle in their vague direction. “Come on man, cut them some slack. Are you telling me that if you had Patrick drooling for it you would bother to wait until you got to the bedroom?” 

“See,” Jonny says, pushing his fingers up again to hit Patrick’s prostate, “Crow gets it. Sometimes Patrick is just so desperate it isn’t worth getting him on a bed.” 

Patrick’s can feel his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He can’t concentrate on anything but Jonny’s fingers in his ass and how hot it is to hear them talking about him like he isn’t even there, just some whore for Jonny to play with. Every time he thinks he might have a handle on this feeling, Jonny moves his fingers differently and suddenly he is gasping and moaning again, trying to shove his hips back further. 

It takes him a second to pay attention to the conversation again, but when he does calm down enough to, Brent is saying “-unfair. If you aren’t going to share him, why even show us what we are missing?” 

Jonny pulls his fingers out completely, wipes them off on the blanket, and Patrick can’t help the whimper he lets out at the empty feeling. 

“Who says I’m not sharing him?” Jonny asks, sounding smug like he always did when he could surprise someone. 

Duncs lets out a low whistle. “No way. You don’t let us use your nice towels, but you are going to let us use Patrick?”

“Okay,” Jonny says, sounding heated like he did whenever the topic of his nice towels came up. “The nice towels are for nice guests, you guys can deal with the regular towels just fine.” 

“How dare you imply we aren’t the nicest guest you have ever had,” Brent gasps, clutching a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. “We are so nice, we even let you fuck your toy in front of us.” 

Patrick was still trying to wiggle around and get Jonny to start fucking him, but Jonny didn’t seem in any rush. Being this empty felt so wrong to Patrick, like he would actually die if he didn’t get something to fill him up. 

Jonny clamps a hand on Patricks hip to keep him still. “Yes,” he says, all patient like, “and as a token of my gratitude, I’m going to let you fuck him. He needs to be re-stretched anyways. It doesn’t seem like Dallas knows how to handle cocksluts.” 

Patrick watches as Brent, Crow and Duncs share some sort of look on the couch, before they all shrug at the same time. Patrick isn’t ashamed by the rush of relief he feels at their obvious agreement. He just needs it so bad, can feel himself getting kind of panicky at the lack of anything. 

He recognizes, in some distant part of his brain that is capable of thinking about anything but getting filled, that Kaner is still sacked out on the couch, mouth breathing like Patrick’s 80 year old grandpa. 

“Alright then,” Brent says. “If we do this, I want a shot at him first.” Crow makes a go ahead motion with his bottle, and Duncs shrugs again before going back to watching the show. 

“Okay baby,” Jonny says to him, using his fingers in Patricks hair to pull his head around to look directly at him. “You are going to be good for the boys okay?” Patrick nods frantically. He would do anything if it meant he wouldn’t have to feel this empty anymore.“You are going to be good,” Jonny says, “ and you are going to let them mess you up. Treat you like the slut you are. Use you as a toy, because that’s what your good for right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “You were made to be played with and used. Can’t believe you made it two years in Dallas without dropping to your knees and begging for it.” Jonny doesn’t sound mean when he says these things, in fact he sounds fond, like Patrick is a slut, but Jonny likes him enough to put up with that. It makes the shaky feeling inside of him dissipate a little bit, centers him to have someone like Jonny in his corner. 

Jonny pushes him off of his lap, and he sprawls on the floor, off balance and dizzy. He scrambles up to his knees though, once Jonny nudges him with his boots. It’s only when he is there, on his knees and looking up at Jonny that he realizes he doesn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the other guys since it was brought up, but he is just realizing that he doesn’t know how to get them. 

“Patrick,” he hears behind him, “Come here.” 

Patrick twists around to see that Duncs and Crow have squeezed themselves on the corner of the couch, leaving Brent with most of the space. Brent is patting on his lap, inviting Patrick to go to him. 

Patrick starts to push himself up, but stops short when he hears Jonny say “no” from behind him, sharp and quick. 

“Crawl,” Jonny says, still just as calm as he was when this started. 

Patrick doesn’t hesitate before dropping back down. If Jonny says jump, he says how high, and if he says crawl, he crawls. He starts to move, across the hardware floor towards Brent, who is still smirking at Patrick and rubbing his thighs. 

When he reaches him, he settles at Brent’s feet, unsure of what to do now. Brent cards his fingers through Patricks hair, like Jonny had, and gives a tentative tug. When Patrick moans and lets his head roll back, Brent pulls harder. It feels so good, the little sharp pin pricks of pain. It would feel even better if Brent had his dick in while he was pulling, but that isn’t for Patrick to decide.  
That’s Jonny’s job, and Patrick can hear him start to shift in his seat, impatient like he always is for them to get the show on the road. 

“Brent,” he says, hard like a warning. 

Brent sighs, but leans over to pull Patrick into his lap anyways. “Jonny, remember when you were a rookie and didn’t boss me around?”

Patrick never remembers a time when Jonny didn’t boss them all around, even when Jonny was 18 and new to everything. But that didn’t matter right now, because Brent had moved his fingers down to his hole and had pushed two in all the way at once. Patrick gasps. Jonny had stretched him out well, but Brent pushes in so quickly, without any hesitation.  
Patrick dropped his head onto Brents shoulder and concentrated on breathing, on how good the stretch felt. 

“Wow,” Brent says, sounding a little impressed for the first time that evening. “He is tight. Your right Jonny, he does need us to loosen him up a bit.” 

Patrick thinks he hears Jonny mutter something about always being right, but Brent chooses that moment to find his prostate and a sudden rushing in Patrick's ears blocks most other sounds out.  
God, it feels good, Brent fucking his fingers in and out of him. He couldn’t find it him to feel any shame about the airy little gasps he could hear himself making. He was trying to rock back on Brent’s fingers, trying to get more, but every time he managed to move back Brent would pull his fingers back an inch.

He almost crys with relief when Brent shifts him off of his lap enough to get his zipper down. Finally, he was going to get what he needed. It had been so long, but Patrick figures it was like riding a bike, because sinking down onto Brent’s dick felt like coming home, like this was where he belonged. 

He can hear Duncs laughing next to him, and honestly he thought it might have been at the show. It wouldn’t be the first time Duncs had found humor in a silent fishing show. But when Patrick twisted his head to look, Duncs was looking at him instead of the Tv. 

“Look at him, so happy to have something in him,” Duncs said. “Can’t believe we don’t just keep him like this all the time.” 

“We can’t,” Jonny said. “Have to keep him in shape to play for another season.” 

“After that, though,” Crow said, also looking over at Patrick. “We can keep him like this. I’ve never seen him this happy, clearly this is where he belongs. 

Patrick felt like he was burning up from the inside out, the feeling of Brent's dick buried all the way inside of him, and hearing Crow and Duncs talk about him, about what they wanted to do to him. 

Brent helps Patrick lift up, before dropping him back down. Patrick wails, Brent’s dick larger than anything he has had in the last year. He’s wider than Jonny, if not a little shorter, and it’s taking Patrick more than a second to adjust to the stretch. The slight burn of it feels like it goes straight to his dick, reminds him of the times Jonny would push fingers in next to his dick, stretch him impossibly wide. 

The next time Brent drops him back down, he hits Patricks prostate and Patrick can feel himself automatically tighten up. He feels so out of it, vaguly aware of Brent groaning as he moves him up and down, of the others in the room, laughing and talking, his own dick leaking like a faucet. Mostly he just feels floaty and good, like he is in a place where nothing really matters and he just has to listen. 

It takes him a second to realize when Crow reaches over to wrap his hand around his dick, jacking him a few times. By the time he does recognize the feeling, Brent is reaching down to knock his hand away. 

“Let him be,” he says, voice sounding strained. “You can ask Jonny to confirm, but I bet he can come just from something fucking him.” 

Jonny laughs from where he is still seated in the armchair. “He doesn’t even really care if he comes or not, but yeah he can. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I kept him tied down and fucked him with toys until he was coming dry?” Jonny sounds delighted at the memory. “He didn’t stop crying and twitching for hours afterwards.” 

Patrick can barley concentrate, too enthralled with the feeling of Brent fucking him faster now, but he thinks he can hear Crow and Duncs laughing. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters excpet for how good he feels. All of Chicago could be watching him right now and he wouldn’t want to stop. 

He tilts his head slightly to look at Jonny, laughing and waving his beer bottle around in the air to make some point. Brent is definitly close to coming now, if the frantic way he is pushing up into him is any indicator. It takes him another few times, but eventually he stills inside of him with a long drawn out grown. 

Patrick tries to tighten up the best he can, feeling Brent’s aftershocks ricocheting through Patrick’s body. He is still coming, hot and thick, and it feels so good. Like what he has been looking for all evening. 

“Fuck,” Brent groans when it’s over. “That felt good. Can’t believe you have been keeping him to yourself Toews. Haven’t we taught you to share?” 

Even as he is talking, Brent is slowly pulling Patrick off of his softening dick. Patrick tries to clench, but he can feel a little bit of cum leaking down his thighs. He has a sudden flash of what he might look like, hole swollen and red, Brent’s come white and sticky leaking out, and he can’t help but groan, thrusting his hips up into nothing, trying not to cry at being empty again.

He thinks Jonny must of answer, but he didn’t hear him, can’t hear anything over the heat coiling in his stomach. 

Brent pushes him back onto the ground, and Patrick tries harder to clench down. He doesn’t want to think about the hell to pay if he gets a stain on one of Jonny’s precious rugs. 

It doesn’t matter for long though, because Crow is dropping down the floor with him, moving around him to push him down onto his hands and knees. Patrick feels more exposed than he has all night when Crow reaches down between his legs to expose his hole. He can feel all the guys eyes on him, can imagine what the must be seeing. Crow isn’t even doing anything, just holding him open and staring. 

Brent laughs from his seat, sounding tired and satisfied. “Look at him, trying to clench down on nothing. It’s almost cruel to keep him empty like this.” 

Patrick can feel his face turn a little red, but it’s true. He is trying to tighten up, to try and keep the cum from dripping out even more and to dissapate the horrible empty feeling a little bit. 

Crow pushes his thumb gently on his hole. For a second Patrick thinks he is going to be filled again, but all Crow does is gently rub some cum around. 

“Jonny,” he says softly. “You ever fuck him and just leave him wanting more? Begging and crying on the floor?” 

Patrick can’t see Jonny from this position, but he can imagine the smile on his face when he says, “he always wants more. Have to empty him eventually, but when I do he cries himself to sleep.”

It’s true. Patrick can remember the end of those long days of doing nothing but fucking, when Jonny would remove his plug so he could skate the next day. It felt awful, like he was missing something that was vital to his being. 

The feeling would always be faded by the time he woke up, would feel more distant as the time between him being fucked grew larger.Honestly, by the end of his time at Dallas, Patrick had almost forgotten it could feel this way. 

Now that he had a taste again though, he didn’t see how he could ever live without it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is half a gangbang. I will eventually write the rest of it, but it had already hit four thousand words and that felt like more porn than I should be posting at once.


End file.
